Oscar almost lost his footing then. Dan laughed automatically and pushed him off the curb and into the road. This was more of a reminiscence than an action, a deliberate reach through time. The road was empty; it served only the most immediately local traffic. Oscar and Dan fit snugly into this category. For them, these were roads rich with memory, each corner representing a milestone, each street name a friend. The two walked on, just as they had before.
“I wish there was more to do around here,” said Oscar.
“You know, I’ve never felt that way,” Dan replied, “I feel like not having much to do has shaped me somehow.”
“Well I think I’d be much more interestingly shaped if I grew up somewhere exciting, personally. I might have been a hang glider or a professional gambler or something.”
They continued their aimless journey a few steps more. The light of the August sun filtered pleasantly through the trees that lined the avenue. Although both boys were unable to ignore the necessity of this meeting, they both began to have second thoughts.
“Could be, but it’s not much use to think about, anyway. Sometimes you just have to accept that you’re not going to be a professional gambler and move on.”
“Hey, don’t be so certain. I like to think that my odds of becoming a professional gambler are above average.”
This was just the type of joke that might have earned an approving chuckle from Dan under different circumstances, but as it was Dan could only look with concern at the sidewalk ahead of him, dutifully avoiding the cracks.
Oscar planted his feet suddenly.
“Hey,” he said, “do you want to head over to the school and see what’s going on?”
Both of the boys knew exactly what was going on at the school, and both recognized the shameless nostalgia of the thought, but there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation from either. It felt like the only place they could go.
The longer they walked, the deeper into their own memories each of them receded. They both felt the allure of this childhood reverie, and succummed without resistance. Finally, Oscar pulled his thoughts to the present with obvious strain.
“You know, I ran into a situation the other day that really didn’t sit right with me. Did you hear that I almost saw someone get killed last week?”
“No, I guess I didn’t.”
“Well I did, it was terrifying. This lady tripped and fell into the road just as a bus was about to go by, and then the man that happened to be walking right behind her jumped over and pulled her away, just in time.”
“That’s incredible.”
“I know, right? Once in a lifetime experience, believe me.”
Dan waited for the inevitable rant as the two boys stopped beside a familiar park. It was the park where, on summer afternoons now long past, the boys might cycle down the grassy hill towards the trees and the river where they could swim and play the finest games of their own invention. Dan wondered how they had never noticed the bridge so close by whose only visitors were drunks and youths who were sure to be the drunks of tomorrow. Although something in Dan still yearned for that make-believe paradise of childhood, there was always the bridge to ward them off.
The sparse traffic cleared, then, and as the boys set off again Oscar could no longer control himself.
“The thing that bugs me about it, though, is that they sung this guy’s praises like you wouldn’t believe. A whole big crowd formed around him, all wanting to congratulate him and shake his hand and make him their son’s godfather, I swear.”
“Well he did save someone’s life, that’s not exactly a reason to hate the guy. I don’t see anything wrong with giving him a little congratulations.”
“The thing is, I was walking right behind the bastard when it all happened, and because of his position he beat me to saving this lady by a split-second. So why does he deserve all this praise and I don’t? He’s just lucky, that’s all.”
“But that doesn’t matter, you didn’t save anyone’s life.”
The pace of Oscar’s stride grew steadily with the pace of his words.
“But I would have, that’s the problem. If I walked a bit faster that day, I would’ve been a goddamn hero. They’re only rewarding him because of the circumstances he found himself in.”
“You think that’s the first time someone’s been rewarded because of their circumstances? Look around you, buddy. That’s the way life works. You just have to accept it.”
“I guess so, but I don’t like it anyway. It’s like when people think some guy’s a real bastard because he’s an alcoholic and he’s screwing up his life. I think a lot of people need to think about who really screwed up his life, because ten times out of ten it was his dad, and his dad’s dad, and so on down the line.”
Oscar steadied himself by thrusting his hands into the pockets of his slim-fitting jeans.
“That’s why I hate all these stupid movies with heroes and villains, where the villain gets killed in the end and everybody celebrates. What kind of ending is that? They should have at least tried the villain on some therapy or something before they killed the guy.”
“Alright, don’t get all heated on me now. I see where you’re coming from. Some people get it all wrong. I don’t get how people take most of these Hollywood movies seriously in any kind of capacity. Most of them haven’t got any real substance when you strip away the sex and the flashy visuals and the melodrama.”
With that, each of them carried on a new, internal conversation, passing the average, middle class bungalows that adorned each street of the average, middle class town. Oscar thought how it always seemed as though nice weather had stopped in this place by mistake, as though the town itself was unworthy of the privilege. He thought about the houses he passed, houses which could be ignored as so much plain wallpaper lining each unimpressive street. Each of these innocuous houses contained stories, contained people, even contained whole lives. He wondered at how each otherwise boring room could have such intense emotional value to a person, and at the intensely complex, interconnected web of emotion and meaning that makes up the world.
Soon, though, he found his thoughts drifting to an undesirable place, and quickly renewed the conversation.
“You know, sometimes I just feel like walking away from all of this. Not just this town, I mean this life. I wish I could just walk straight into the wilderness, and I could live by myself and find my own food and shelter. Just walking and thinking and living, that’s what I’d like.”
“But what if you got lonely all by yourself? You know you would.”
“Sure, I guess I’d have to take a girl with me, then. I’d just like to find a girl and then walk straight out of town. You know, I’m always jealous of people who lived before the rise of human civilization. They didn’t have to worry about anyone’s expectations, or becoming anything, or achieving success. The only barometer they had to measure their success by was whether or not they were alive and how many kids they left behind. That’s all they had, a life and maybe a girl. You know Dan, that’s exactly the problem: we can’t just live anymore.”
Dan didn’t bother with a response, as he knew the ensuing argument would be a long and painful one, and this was no time for arguments.
Finally, the boys’ old elementary school came into view around another tree-lined corner. The sky had clouded over now, and the gentle breeze of a few moments past had turned into a biting wind. A hush fell over them as they crossed over onto the grounds, like two monks on a resolute pilgrimage.
This was certainly the type of journey that most men would have undergone alone, but these two boys felt alone together. Taking in the sight of the field and playground, the two remembered vividly all those years spent together on the monkey bars, together on the soccer team, together in the classroom. Before he lost himself in silent nostalgia, Dan spoke out.
“Hey, do you remember wh--”
“Listen,” Oscar interjected, turning to face Dan, “the last thing I need right now is a ‘do you remember’, alright? I’m not in any mood for out and out reminiscing.”
He immediately noticed Dan’s surprise and apologized.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you that way. I know it was my idea to come here, but I guess I’m just feeling a little sensitive at the moment.”
There was a pause, as Oscar realized he had said more than he intended. Acknowledging this, he went on.
“Sometimes I just feel like my whole future is ahead of me and I’m unprepared. I feel like someone’s sat me down in front of a blank canvas and told me to start painting. I have no time to think about it, I’m just being forced to start making lines without any kind of plan. I really feel like I could do something great, but starting this way is making me nervous. I guess I’m just afraid I’ll reach the end of my days and think to myself: ‘Could have done better,’ you know?”
“Well I’m not too concerned about where my life is going at this point, I think it’ll sort itself out. I’m sure I’ll be able to make ends meet.”
“See, that’s why I envy you. If only I had the capacity to sit at a desk all day and do some arbitrary task that didn’t interest me, then go home and enjoy the fruits of my labour. If I could do that every day until I died and still find some meaning in my life at the end of it all, these decisions would be much easier for me.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
This remark was followed by a silence, a silence that grew in gravity as the minutes past. Eventually, without speaking, the boys walked away and went home, and the silence followed them until they parted. Those were the last words between them until they left, Oscar to Calgary and Dan to Montreal, and they seldom spoke again.